The beauty of Budapest lived up to all I had ever heard. So did its mystery. Though my visit was a Zen trip taken for the moment of night in need of romance and wide skies, the details were rich and tangible. The air was crisp and still as a soundless universe. My mind was perfectly placed for reflecting on life, on learning, on luck and the little things.
As I moved over to sit on the stairs outside the city of Budapest, I thought about the things that worry me. Each year they seem to be a few inches taller, but moved a few inches farther from my line of vision. So they look a few inches smaller. They look like little things.
I haven't have the best of luck in these last few years. I haven't had the worst luck either. I keep thinking on my friend who asked me, "Do you think you are a lucky person? Why, then, would you think that all of your luck would be good?"
I smile and call him clever again. It's a little memory about a little luck.
I've had my share of luck and little things. They seem so different to me when I'm alone under a dark sky in another part of the world, sitting on the steps outside the city of Budapest.
Luck and the little things . . . everything seems a little thing when a big wild sky is over me and a beautiful city is steps away.
--me strauss Letting me be